


pull at the earth

by sieges



Category: Inazuma Eleven
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied Relationships, KDFD Week, KDFD Week 2019, M/M, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Post-Canon, but its just a line or two, injuries, it's not actually seen but: tagging just in case, lots of other characters are there but they don't have speaking lines so they havent been tagged, super brief mention of implied abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-11 09:16:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20151235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sieges/pseuds/sieges
Summary: "You know how it is." Jimon shrugs. "Teikoku doesn't strive for 'enough'; it strives for excellence. Maybe he just didn't make the cut anymore."Fudou drops out of Teikoku for unknown reasons. Kidou starts looking like he's gone through bear traps and picked street fights when he knows he's done none of those.AKA: for kdfd week: alternate universe. a soulmate au wherein you share the same injuries as your soulmate.





	pull at the earth

**Author's Note:**

> for KDFD Week 2019 Day 6: Alternate Universe
> 
> hella rushed considering that i made this entire thing in the span of three days and it ended up /way/ longer than i thought except not that ... complete either?? pretty sure there are a few areas here and there that could use some more build up or improvement, but i just wanted to put something up for kdfd week on time to discipline myself to meet a certain deadline, and i did. plus i wanted to contribute something to this wonderful ship, since i couldn't do it last year and didn't have any interesting ideas at the time. 
> 
> apologies for any accidental info inaccuracies. tried following the japan school calendar, which said that school officially starts in april. kidou's birthday is also in april, while fudou's is in february, based on the inazuma wiki. they go from being first-year high school students to second-year because of this. 
> 
> this is technically set in post-og verse where they're already in high school since using the go!verse or orion!verse doesnt give us the kdfd foundation we want that is only found in the original one.

It doesn't come off as a shocker when Kidou transfers back to Teikoku for high school. Though he'd grown to appreciate what Raimon had to offer, especially with the new friends he found and experiences he went through with them, Teikoku is, and always will be, where he truly belongs. The middle school soccer team he'd been leading for years throws him a _ welcome back _ party, and it's like nothing's changed save for the fact that Kageyama's no longer there, and Fudou is now an important member of their circle. Raimon also give him their own _ farewell _ party, which is combined with the few others who decided to not go there for high school — like Someoka, Kageno, and Max — as well as serving as its own _welcome to Raimon _one too for newcomers they already know like Hiroto and Touko.

Teikoku's high school soccer team isn't as renowned as its middle school one is, but that's why Kidou is there to change it. It's also probably why the board was so insistent on him returning there, even offering a scholarship to him despite how he didn't ask or need it, and despite the fact that Fudou — a playmaking genius in his own right — was already studying there. They would do anything to ensure they can maintain their good name as being the best of the best. It's technically enough that they have someone like Fudou on their team, but the thing is, Teikoku never settles for "_enough"_, only for excellence. 

Kidou is already back in Teikoku by the time Fudou’s sixteenth birthday rolls in, so he’s one of the few people who get to celebrate the occasion, not because Fudou only invited Teikoku, but because it’s their middle school team — who surprisingly all made it into the starting team, since the upperclassmen aren’t as good or don’t take it as seriously for a sport; no wonder the board wanted people like Kidou back — who hosts it. Fudou isn’t a party-person by nature, and it doesn’t help that parties cost money he doesn’t have. The entire thing is Sakuma’s idea, funnily enough; a month before Fudou’s birthday, everybody started to secretly pitch in their extra weekly savings to pay for the upcoming surprise party they were planning for him. Endou somehow caught wind of it and managed to convince the rest of Inazuma Japan to give a little, even if they weren’t invited to the party itself, because a student’s meager savings could only get them so far, regardless as to how rich they actually were. Fudou, thankfully, remained oblivious to it all. 

They reserve one of function rooms of one of the fast food chains that Fudou goes to so often that the employees memorize his order, even though the only thing they’re really going to be doing there besides eating is playing music, since they can’t afford the program and it might be too childish for Fudou’s tastes. The place is a like a lower version of McDonald’s, with a name so obscure and definitely not in any language Kidou knows, but recognizes due to the blue hawk-shaped logo. 

Fudou’s birthday is on a school day, so they’ll be busy in the morning and afternoon, but the surprise party in the evening is meant to make up for all that. To convince the celebrant to actually go where they want him to go, Sakuma and Kidou are the ones who invite him out for an impromptu dinner out, the latter’s supposed treat since he didn’t have a birthday gift for Fudou, even though he didn’t need to. (Only Sakuma and Genda actually gave Fudou presents. The rest of them gave greetings, but it wasn’t like Fudou was particularly materialistic or conscious about that kind of stuff anyway, and they all knew it. In truth, the members’ gifts were all waiting inside the function room, wanting to catch the celebrant off-guard, because that tends to be a rarity.) 

Naturally, the plan goes off without a hitch. They take him to the fast food place and Fudou is so shocked to see the entire team there in a room full of decor in brown, red, and green with a handmade banner that says _ Happy Birthday Fudou! _that Kidou believes Fudou teared up a bit. Of course, when he points it out, Fudou just smacks him in the shoulder and denies it. Because it’s his birthday, Kidou decides not to tease him about it. 

Things like these are always a fun and festive occasion when it comes to friends. Even though there’s class the next day, they all act like they can afford to be here the whole night. Some of the members are having an eating contest, trying to see who can finish the most fries, with Daiden being in the lead; others are busy trying to guess the presents they got for Fudou before giving up and just opening the gifts themselves (they didn't even ask for permission, but the most Fudou did when he saw them was roll his eyes). The celebrant has also somehow managed to convince a few to resort to a friendly pseudo-game of soccer with one of the balloons. Kidou’s surprised that the function room has enough space to accommodate the range of activities even though it appears small, but Genda’s only reply to that had been, “_It’s magic. Rich folk like you wouldn’t get it.” _as if he doesn’t come from a wealthy family himself. 

Fudou himself is . . . absent from the scene. Kidou isn’t that surprised by that fact, but instead by how no one’s noticed. The room they’re in has a door that leads to the food chain’s parking lot, and sure enough, he spots Fudou a few meters away, the white streak on his hair stark against the moonlight. He’s leaning against one of the bike racks that are unoccupied, appearing to be deep in thought. 

Something tells Kidou he should go back, because there have rarely been times when the two of them would be alone, and even when they were, the atmosphere was light and they’d only talk about trivial things, because that's all that went through their heads. It isn't that Kidou and Fudou aren’t friends or on bad terms— the opposite, actually, to the extent that Kidou trusts Fudou’s plans without question whenever they need a change of pace in their matches and Kidou can’t think of something quick enough, even though they tend to be a bit strange at first — but they just aren’t _ those _types of friends. The type that could have a serious, deep conversation. And he has a feeling that if he makes his presence known here, that’s where it would lead to. 

Unfortunately, before he can even make a decision, Fudou shifts, slightly, and speaks up. “What brings you here, Kidou-kun? Place got too stuffy?”

“I should be asking you that. You’re the celebrant, after all.” Kidou says, the casual way Fudou talks to him giving him to confidence to move closer. “Or was it 'too stuffy’?”

Fudou snickers. “Just for my thoughts.” he admits, much to Kidou’s surprise. “It’s not everyday you turn sixteen, after all.”

“Ah.” Kidou blinks, realizing what the other’s hinting at. “Soulmates.”

It starts on everyone’s sixteenth birthday. The moment two people meant to be together turn that age, they start sharing the same injuries. It means sharing pain, but not at the same degree; the other person who didn't actually get injured will feel a lesser version of the actual thing. It means, more than anything, that you know when your soulmate's been hurt. To Kidou, it represents the fact that you’re responsible for the well-being of your soulmate, and that you share their weakness; the pinnacle of what togetherness is. It’s why being sixteen is a big deal; it means additional responsibility, another large and important stage in life one reaches. 

Kidou doesn’t really have a strong opinion on the matter. It’s just something that exists, a vital part of civilization and what usually influences how people make big decisions for their lives. It’s why Someoka transferred to Hakuren; why Touko moved to Raimon. 

“Mm,” Fudou hums, looking up at the stars. “Don’t tell, but my parents are soulmates, y’know? Everyone thinks they weren't because they were a trainwreck, but they were. Whenever my mom would accidentally hurt herself doing chores, my dad would know. If my dad got smacked around because of his job, my mom would always prepare the first-aid kit as she waited for him to come home. And they say romance is dead.” His smile turns wistful. “But that didn’t really mean anything, in the end. They were still a mess, and they ended up separating. And they can live fine without each other.” Of course they can. It isn't like it's impossible to be separated from your soulmate. It's just hard; it just hurts. Cases where soulmates don't work out are incredibly rare though. A 1% chance in the scale of a hundred. 

Instead of replying, Kidou simply looks at him. Fudou continues gazing at the sky for a few more seconds before his eyes shift to Kidou. “Well?” Fudou eventually says. 

“What was your point?” asks Kidou. 

“I don’t know.” Fudou replies. “I guess that the soulmate thing is stupid. The world keeps on marketing the fact that having a soulmate means you don’t need to be alone anymore and for the rest of your life, that you’ll finally have someone to dump your burdens on, but is that really what’s best? People aren’t made to carry each other’s problems. And soulmates aren’t always the endgame. It’s not some fucking fairytale. People are more complicated than that.” He straightens up and turns, starting to walk. “I just came here to think about that. That it doesn’t matter. Let’s head back before Sakuma notices and throws a fit.”

Fudou walks past him, and Kidou catches a whiff of strawberry, which momentarily catches the latter off guard, not expecting them to be this close, albeit briefly. Fudou doesn't give him a chance to respond to his entire spiel, almost as if he didn't open up about something important to him in the first place, but then, it's probably irrelevant, whatever Kidou has to say. Fudou likely only told him all that because he wanted to air it out to someone, and Kidou happened to be the only one around. He doesn’t think it’ll be a good idea if he pisses Fudou off with his opinion when it’s his birthday anyway. 

“Right.” Kidou simply says, turning to follow. 

Even though Kidou’s sixteenth birthday is a lot more extravagant than Fudou’s, it somehow feels a lot more uneventful. Kidou doesn’t even remember the fancy buffet of a five-star hotel his father had thrown, which is likely because it was made up less of his friends and more of his adopted relatives, but the highlight of the entire thing was Haruna being able to come, being his only biological family member left. He spent the majority of the occasion spending time with her and having a small food showdown. 

Though also not as grand as the other playmaker's, Teikoku has their own celebration for Kidou’s birthday by surprising him with a homemade birthday cake they all helped make in Narukami’s house, even though, in the end, his mom and Fudou, much to everyone’s surprise — who knew he had a knack for that — did most of the work while the rest started food fights. It’s a little too sweet, but Kidou thinks it’s because Fudou has a natural sweet tooth and he just doesn’t. It’s all their friends really do to mark the occasion, but Kidou is happy regardless. Raimon gave Kidou birthday greetings, and the rest of Inazuma Japan sent him things that were distinct to their area, like Tsunami gifting him with a keychain depicting a wave, and Fubuki sending expensive Hokkaido chocolate, Someoka later claiming it was a joint present. 

The most surprising and memorable turn of events, however, actually occurs a week after his birthday. They’ve just finished practice, and gradually, their team disperses, heading home. Kidou is about to do the same until Fudou grabs the sleeve of his jersey uniform and asks, “Can we talk?”

Kidou relents, of course, even though he wants to do nothing but go home because his knee throbs slightly from screwing up his landing after doing a particular high jump during practice. They find themselves back in one of the many soccer fields Teikoku has, standing on the sidelines. He expects Fudou to say something, but the latter isn’t even looking at him, instead staring intently at the empty field like something eventful would abruptly happen, not-so subtly shifting the weight of his body from one leg to the other. 

“What is it?” Kidou finally asks, breaking the silence, because he can’t take Fudou's fidgeting much longer. 

Fudou doesn’t answer immediately, which would annoy Kidou if that didn’t mean that he’s mustering the courage to say something that’s definitely serious. Then again, what else did Kidou expect when Fudou asked to talk to him alone? The last time they did this was Fudou's party.

“I like you.” Fudou says, which is— well.

The last Kidou expected him to say. 

“You— what?”

Fudou sighs loudly. “Don’t make me say it again.” He swings his foot slightly forward, as if imitating a kick. The sole of his shoe scrapes out a patch of dirt from the grass. “I like you.” he repeats it anyway. “In _ that _way.”

“That way?”

“God, you’re annoying.” Fudou huffs. “Like in the _ I-want-to-go-out-with-you _way. Not that I want you to.” He adds. “I don’t actually want you to do anything about it.” 

Kidou blinks. “So you don’t want to know my reply."

Fudou hesitates for half a second before saying, “No.”

It sounds like reverse logic, except it’s . . . also not that, because he knows Fudou is actually being serious. And it’s not like Kidou _ actually _has a response in mind, because he can barely wrap his head about it.

But that, for some reason, isn’t what he’s concerned about. “Then what was the point of confessing?”

Fudou gives him a side glance. “I just wanted to get it off my chest. Say it before it’s too late and all.”

_ Before it’s too late. _Kidou frowns. “What do you mean?”

This time, Fudou properly looks at him. It’s like he’s trying to find the answer in Kidou’s eyes, but that’s impossible, because he's still wearing his goggles and doesn’t know all the answers to the world. Eventually, Fudou says, “I just wanted to say it before you find your soulmate.” before he turns around and leaves. “Have a nice night, Kidou.” 

As always, Fudou doesn’t give him the chance to reply. Kidou simply watches him go, and can’t help but think that there's more to the story than Fudou is saying. 

The next day, Kidou wakes up to bruises on his arm. When he brushes against them, they sting a little, but not enough as a fresh one. The pain is a bit muted, like there could be more but there isn’t. He doesn’t remember bumping into anything that would cause them, and he isn’t someone who tosses and turns as he sleeps, so the only other answer for it is— his soulmate. 

(Kidou stares at the purple-shaped marks and wonders if Fudou is clairvoyant. The thought is both amusing and sad to think about, because it’s not like he’s forgotten what the other told him the day before.)

He thinks about bringing the bruises up with one of his friends, because it’s usually nice to share about once-in-a-lifetime occasions like these, like knowing that your soulmate is out there and wondering how they’re doing based on the wound they have, but when he gets to school, Fudou isn’t there for class, and even practice. They all notice, but brush it off as Fudou just being in “one of his moods”, yet the thought of him again is enough for Kidou to refrain from saying anything about his soulmate. It’s not obvious anyway, since the bruises are under his sleeve, so no one asks. 

The entire thing eventually becomes forgotten in the grander scheme of things, because all they can think about is how Fudou doesn't show up for the next two weeks. On the third Monday when Fudou hasn’t shown his face, it’s revealed that apparently, he officially dropped out of Teikoku five days ago. 

“You’re kidding.” Narukami says, incredulous. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I’m not.” Jimon sounds annoyed, which makes sense, because he’s been saying the same thing over five times. 

“But— but that doesn’t make sense!” Doumen exclaims. “Why would Fudou just leave like that? It’s out of nowhere! The year just started!”

"You know how it is." Jimon shrugs. "Teikoku doesn't strive for 'enough'; it strives for excellence. Maybe he just didn't make the cut anymore." 

"How can you say that?" Sakuma demands. Jimon’s words sound like a jab towards Fudou’s less than ideal home situation, which is probably why Sakuma’s getting worked up. It’s not like Kidou doesn’t understand where Sakuma is coming from, nor would he normally sit back and allow those kinds of comments to slide, but this is Jimon. The last thing anyone on their Teikoku team would do is pick at any sensitive topic related to Fudou's family life. 

"Don't get your panties in a twist, man." Jimon says, raising his hands to show he isn’t to blame for any of this. "You know Fudou. I wouldn't worry about him."

Kidou raises an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Heard he was going to Raimon. He got a scholarship there. Whatever made him leave Teikoku, at least, didn’t affect his acceptance there."

“Oh.” The ones who were getting riled up instantly calm down. But then Narukami frowns. “Why didn’t he tell us then?”

“You know how he is.” Kidou is the one who speaks up this time, even though all he wants to do is to slink off and wonder what this means, because the last time Kidou saw and talked to Fudou was when he confessed. “If he did leave Teikoku because he was . . . kicked out, for whatever reason, he wouldn’t want us to know. It might affect his pride.” And Fudou is an awfully proud person.

“Still, he should’ve told us.” Henmi says. “Pride doesn’t mean anything here! We could’ve helped.”

_ That’s probably why he didn’t. _ Kidou thinks, but he chooses not to say it aloud, because that’ll only cause another round of exclamations, which are pointless, since the one who is supposed to bear the brunt of them isn’t here in the first place. Sakuma and Genda, based on their silence, realize the same thing. 

The mystery behind why Fudou really left aside, what’s even stranger is the fact that no one can seem to contact him. All calls go to voicemail, and none of their texts can even be marked as delivered. It’s like he disappeared off the face of the earth, and it’s a possibility that everyone on the team believes for a while. The only reassurance they really have that Jimon wasn’t lying and Fudou isn’t actually somewhere dead in a ditch or now part of the mafia is that Endou, as reliable as always, says he sees Fudou around Raimon's campus, when Kidou finally gets worried enough to ask. He’s apparently classmates with Hiroto, and Endou’s trying to convince him to join the soccer team. 

The fact that anyone from Teikoku still can’t reach him through his phone means that he doesn’t want to maintain contact with any of his old schoolmates. Kidou tells his team as such, and they’re predictably angry, confused, and upset, and he can’t help but think, rather resignedly, that this is typical of Fudou, even though this is the first time this has ever happened. It probably has something to do with how Fudou presents himself, like he can want you there, but he’ll never really _ need _ you. That it isn’t so hard for him to cut off contact and friendship, in the end, because it’s not like he isn’t smart enough to do things himself and survive on his own. It’s an alternative effect and reaction to someone important in one's life leaving, Kidou supposes. If not for Haruna, and if not for the fact that his parents actually died instead of outright abandoning them, Kidou thinks he would’ve been the same. 

Their soccer team bitches about Fudou for around a whole month until Sakuma brings in a clear jar on one practice day and declares, “Okay, guys. Anyone who mentions Fudou negatively has to put in a hundred yen in this jar.” Sakuma isn’t doing it to defend Fudou, they all know, but to get them to all shut up about him. From then, Fudou’s name flits among them probably once a week, but it’s less in a bitter sentiment and more in a reminiscent sense, and it’s always about soccer. Sometimes, the way they sound makes Kidou almost believe that Fudou died, but he guesses that it’s better than insulting him. Even if Fudou may deserve it. 

As for Kidou himself, he keeps on thinking back to the last time he saw Fudou, and holds back saying a thing about him at all. He makes an effort to not even react whenever someone mentions his name. If anyone notices, they don’t comment on it. 

Summer gradually comes along without much fanfare. Kidou is grateful that they don’t have school during the hottest time of the year, because it’s nearly impossible to wear clothes long enough to cover every inch of his skin without feeling like you’re suffocating under the heat. He’s grateful that most of them are making the most out of their vacation by traveling, because that means he can walk around in tank tops and less and he won’t have to be conscious of what the people he knows will see. 

It’s not that Kidou is necessarily ashamed of his wounds. Everyone experiences the same thing, after all. It’s just that his case is . . . mildly concerning. His soulmate gets injured an awful lot, at least once every two days, and while they were small things at first, things that can easily be because of clumsiness, as time went by they turned a lot worse. One morning, Kidou woke up to a bruise on the side of his head; another time, there was a nasty cut on his back. It's starting to look a lot less like an accident and something more purposeful. 

His father doesn’t ask about it because Kidou requested him not to. Sakuma and Genda don’t know a thing. It’s only Haruna who knows the full story, especially because Kidou spends most of summer vacation with her. Seeing her isn’t as easy as before when he was in Raimon, and only meeting her around once a month during the school year isn’t enough. 

“Are you any closer to figuring it out?” Haruna asks. They’re in Inazuma Town, leaning on the railings of the bridge that overlooks the riverbank and Raimon High, eating popsicles Kidou bought them from the convenience store while he was making his way here. “Why your soulmate gets injured so much, I mean.”

“I have a few theories.” Kidou admits. He’s in a white undershirt, and the front and back are damp with sweat. They probably shouldn’t have met in the afternoon, but Haruna woke up by the time it was lunch and Kidou was helping the maids with chores because he had nothing else to do. His sleeves are rolled up all the way to his shoulders, revealing a deep cut that hasn’t healed yet. He knows it definitely bled a lot the night before, but since it isn’t really _ his _wound, he didn’t actually lose any blood. Haruna said, when she first saw it, that it looked like he got caught in a bear trap. Kidou doesn’t tell her the sight of it the first time almost worked up a panic attack in him, which he wouldn’t have even known the symptoms of if not for Fubuki. “It could be that they pick a lot of fights.” He doesn’t know how old his soulmate is, seeing as he only got his first shared injury days after his birthday, but they’re definitely older than him. 

“Or?” Haruna prompts, because she can tell that her brother isn’t done talking yet. 

“Or,” Kidou hesitates, and then bites into the popsicle. He doesn’t like the other possibility, but it’s not like it’s impossible, and it would be stupid of Kidou to dismiss it just because he doesn’t like the idea of it. Just because he doesn’t talk about something doesn’t mean it won't be true. “He might be abused.” It’s a hypothesis he came up with when he emerged from the shower one night and saw the faint print of a hand on his cheek. A hard slap. It faded a few moments later, only to be followed by a sharp, painful jut on his hip, like his soulmate hurt themselves by some sort of edge. “Either way, they’re probably not in a good place.” 

Haruna frowns. “What are you going to do?”

Kidou grimaces. “I can’t do anything for now. Not when I don’t even know where they are, _ who _they are.” he admits.

Haruna gives him a long look before humming, turning her gaze away to the water in front of them. “It’s kind of stupid, how the system doesn’t let you find your soulmate, and just lets you know how they’re doing. Even though when you already meet, you’ll already know things about their well-being by then. I don't think sharing injuries and pain is that necessary."

Statistics say that people usually find their soulmates in their youth, but that’s not definite, not like what Haruna is referring to. The thing is, Kidou doesn’t agree with her, because real life isn’t like some fictional love story where the tale ends with two people finding out that they’re meant to be. In reality, that’s where the story starts. Though Kidou agrees that it would be a lot easier if the system could give them a hint as to who their soulmate may be, the ability to know when your soulmate is injured exists for the aftermath of that meeting, the method of being able to know if your partner is okay or not, because love means taking care of each other. 

“If you could pick your soulmate,” Haruna begins.

“You can’t.” Kidou immediately says. 

Haruna puffs her cheeks, and Kidou can’t help but smile. She rolls her eyes before continuing. “If you could pick your soulmate,” She repeats. Kidou doesn’t interrupt her this time. “Who would you want it to be?” 

The first thing that comes to mind when she asks the question isn’t an answer, but a memory instead, of Fudou. Fudou, telling Kidou he liked him. Fudou, telling him that the soulmate thing was bullshit. They were so close for both those moments, Kidou sometimes lets himself wonder what it would’ve been like if he grabbed the other and pulled him even closer, just to know if he would’ve liked how it felt when they touched, because at those times, Fudou wasn’t the self-assured, closed-off boy he knew. 

“I don’t know.” Kidou replies. “It doesn’t really matter, does it? Even if I could choose, it’s not like my soulmate will suddenly change into that person I want.”

“Well, you have a point.” Haruna sighs. “But still, wouldn’t it be nice to just . . . fantasize about it? The possibilities of love are endless. ‘Sides, it’s not like everyone really ends up with their soulmate, even if those are really rare cases.” 

“Fudou said something like that once.” Kidou can’t help but say, and this is the first time he’s spoken about Fudou since he left. 

“Fudou-san?” Haruna inquires. “Oh, right. He moved to Raimon, didn’t he?”

Kidou nods. “No one from Teikoku has heard a thing from him since he left though. He practically cut all contact with us. Do you know anything about him?”

“If you wanted to know about him, you could always just ask Endou-senpai, onii-chan.” Haruna points out. Kidou just shrugs. For some reason, bringing Fudou up to Endou isn’t something he’s ever wanted to do, even if more than once there was a chance to. Fudou is starting to feel like a taboo topic that Kidou feels like he can’t ever say aloud, only think. “But I know he’s in Raimon High’s soccer team now.”

“So Endou managed to convince him.”

Haruna nods. "Well, if you want to see him that badly, then the two of you need to win in your respective blocks for FF." 

"We will." Kidou states firmly, before processing the first part of what she said and bristling. "And I don't." 

“Sure.” she says dryly, clearly not believing him. “Whatever you say.”

It's expected that Teikoku win the matches in their block and make it to the nationals in the Football Frontier. It isn't as if the rest of the schools they're up against are particularly known for their soccer anyway, but it never hurts to be cautious, because every once in a while an underdog will surprise the rest of the world by making it to the top. Endou and his team is the best example of this. Predictably, the other schools known for their soccer like Kidokawa Seishou and Raimon also win their respective blocks, but what's surprising is that Teikoku’s first match in the preliminary stage is against the latter school, right off the bat. 

Everyone can't help but react when they find out who their next opponent, because even though it's been a while and they don't talk about it, Fudou's betrayal still stings like a fresh wound, and their upcoming match only emphasizes the painful reminder, because he'll definitely be on the field. Kidou doesn't say a thing, because he knew as well as the rest of them did — though he's the only one who has mentally acknowledged it even before — that this would eventually happen. Just not this fast. Not when both schools are fan-favorites because of their past middle school team's reputation. 

(Fudou aside though, the match brings Kidou excitement. He doesn't remember the last time he's even played with Endou and Gouenji, what more compete against them.)

Raimon’s High School's soccer club is more or less in the same boat as Teikoku’s, in the sense that their upperclassmen take the sport more to gain credit rather than because they're genuinely passionate about it, so they aren’t really that good, and it’s unsurprising to see that most of the starting members for both schools are mostly second-years, with Endou and Kidou as respective captains. They're well known even in the high school division, and their reputations precede them, evident by the increased roars of the crowd as the two teams enter the field of the Football Frontier Stadium. 

The faces on the other side of the field that greet Kidou are all familiar, save for a few of the ones from different batches, but the mix is strange. Raimon’s two-top is Hiroto and Gouenji instead of Someoka and Gouenji. Fudou stands behind the forwards, smack in the middle with Kazemaru and Touko flanking him, wearing the blue-yellow uniform instead of the red-green one they all got used to seeing. His hair is longer, wispy at the edges and covering his head completely, white streak gone and in lieu of a rather disheveled look, like he doesn’t know what to do with all that newfound hair, and Kidou feels dizzy, too caught off guard with Fudou’s new appearance. The rest of Teikoku who know him are the same way, and it’s hard for them to hide the tension in their shoulders at the sight of their former teammate, who has a blank expression on his face, almost like he doesn’t recognize them. It doesn't help that the commentator points this very fact out, posing it as a face-off between two renowned playmakers. 

But it's not just a fight between Kidou and Fudou. It's Teikoku versus him, and that's why all his old teammates feel the pressure. 

On the plus side, at least it doesn’t affect how the match goes entirely. Fudou doesn’t always get the ball, after all, and that’s the only time the members hesitate. Even if it’s for less than a second, it’s more than enough time Fudou needs to steal it and pass it to someone else. No one in Raimon seems to notice, but Fudou’s eyes do narrow knowingly the third time a Teikoku member lets him go without much of a fight. 

So far, they’re tied at 0-0, but with the first half close to ending, Kidou feels like either side should be making progress by now. He subtly signals Jimon to pass him the ball, and then he moves up, skillfully getting through Raimon’s midfielders and half of their defense until Fudou comes charging towards him. 

Kidou would hate to admit it, but he knows he’s in the same boat as the rest of Teikoku, even if he knows that logically, it’s stupid to get affected by the sight of Fudou playing on the other side, especially when this is the Football Frontier and they have things on the line. It's unbecoming of him, as their captain and tactician, but he doesn't feel like he's capable of being his usual self at the moment. 

His movements to evade the other are clumsy, and Fudou manages to take the ball from him, something that they both know wouldn’t have happened if Kidou was fighting with someone else. It’s just hard, Kidou thinks, when they haven’t seen or heard from Fudou in what feels like forever to the point where they had to get used to his absence and out of nowhere he’s just— _ there _. 

Though Fudou finally has the ball, he doesn’t move. Instead, he stops and looks at Kidou with narrowed eyes. “What was that?” he suddenly says lowly. 

“What?”

Fudou turns to the rest of Teikoku on the other side of the field instead of answering Kidou directly. “What’s with all of you?” he asks loudly. “Too chicken to fight seriously now just because I’m playing for the other team?"

“What did you just say?” Sakuma demands. 

"This match is getting boring." Fudou declares. "Is this really the best you can do? I don't remember playing with guys this pathetic." 

"Bold words coming from someone who fucking ditched us without a word!" 

"So that's it? That's why you're all playing like shit?" Fudou narrows his eyes. "Listen, if you're still clinging onto the past and hate me for it," He starts to dribble, boldly entering into Teikoku’s field by himself. “Then show it through soccer!” He moves past Sakuma and Jimon with ease, quickly avoids Doumen by throwing the ball upwards and running forward again. He’s close to reaching their defense line, and all their defenders tense, bracing for him. 

“Shut up, you bastard!” Henmi yells, suddenly in front of Fudou and going in for a slide. His anger at Fudou’s taunting translates into the brutality of his tackle, and why the impact is worse than it usually is. Kidou suddenly feels a sharp pain shoot up his ankle, as Henmi manages to get the ball back and pass it to Sakuma. They execute Death Zone, but Kidou’s attention is focused on how Fudou briefly kneels down to grip at his right leg like it got injured by Henmi's slide, before swiftly getting up like nothing happened and grinning as he watches Sakuma, Jimon, and Doumen shoot. 

Though they don’t get a goal, they look energized instead of upset, fueled by the desire to prove Fudou wrong instead of dwelling on what he did and all their unresolved issues with him. Fudou’s words, Kidou knows, had accomplished its desired effect, because the team is ready to play with their all regardless of the fact that they're up against a former teammate. They’re here to play soccer, after all. Anything else should be handled some other time. 

But Kidou's leg twinges like a reminder, and he realizes that he shouldn't prolong this. Not something this important. 

The referee blows the half-time whistle with both teams at a stalemate, not that anyone is surprised. Kidou glances at Raimon's bench and realizes that Fudou isn't there. As the rest of his team make the most out of their break by stretching, hydrating, and talking amongst themselves, Kidou leaves on the pretense of going to the bathroom. 

He finds Fudou in Raimon's changing room, the door slightly parted open. His leg is raised up and resting on the bench, shoe off and sock pushed down. Kidou can’t see the state of the other’s ankle from the distance he’s at, but he knows it’s bad, because his own ankle hurts, and it isn’t even his injury. Fudou looks up when Kidou opens the door a bit more and steps in, and instantly scowls. 

“You’re not allowed in here.” he says. 

Kidou simply sighs before raising the first-aid kit he brought with him. “Just staring at it won’t make it heal, you know.”

When Kidou sits down beside him and gives him instructions on what to do to properly treat it, Fudou is surprisingly compliant. The wound isn’t that bad, despite how it seems like it does, likely to slightly bruise at most and only for a short time, but it will definitely get worse if Fudou pushes it now, so they need to ease the swelling with the short time they have. 

After putting an ice pack and spraying the injured area, Kidou wraps the gauze bandage around it. Though he doesn’t say anything, Kidou knows Fudou’s pain has lessened by a lot because it’s almost non-existent on his part. He can feel Fudou’s heavy stare on him, but it’s easy to ignore when he puts his full attention into wrapping. 

“You can probably still play during the second half, if you want.” Kidou tells him. “But you might end up getting benched in the next game, if you do manage to beat us. It won’t get worse as long as you don’t strain it for now. But you definitely can’t use any hissatsu techniques for a while.” 

Fudou shrugs. “Like I make a habit of using those anyway.” 

Kidou nods and pulls away, finally finished. Fudou’s eyes trail after him. 

“Why are doing this?” he asks, at last. 

Kidou looks up and meets the other’s gaze. “You know why.” he says, before staring at Fudou’s ankle knowingly.

Fudou scowls, but Kidou raises an eyebrow at him, so the older relents and raises his shirt to show a tiny cut above his left hip. It’s Kidou who causes that this time around, because even though he isn’t clumsy, he isn’t perfect, and that accident happened this morning, with Kidou grazing something sharp by accident as he was leaving his house. The cut is still fresh on Fudou’s skin, as expected. 

“You know we need to talk about this.” Kidou says. “That there’s a lot to talk about.”

Though Fudou looks like he wants to argue, something in Kidou’s tone must tell him something, because what Kidou assumes was meant to be a scoff comes out as a sigh instead. “Fine. Whatever.”

Kidou’s watch beeps, signalling that their half-time break is about to finish. Fudou stands up and starts heading towards the exit, but Kidou is rooted in place. “You aren’t going to run away, are you?”

Fudou stops. “When have I ever ran away?”

“Back then,” Kidou replies, and he doesn’t have to clarify for Fudou to know what he’s referring to.

“That wasn’t running away.”

Not exactly in the literal sense, no. But saying you don’t want to hear a response and walking away is the same thing, because Fudou did it out of fear. And he can’t do that forever. Kidou refuses to let him do so. 

“Wasn’t it?” Kidou says pointedly. Fudou looks at him and suddenly appears so tired, his shoulders loose and posture slackened, like the weight of the world rests on him and he’s finally letting it show that it’s giving him a hard time. It almost makes Kidou take the words back, but he remembers the bruises, the scars, the slap. Remembers feeling useless as he stared at all the injuries that littered his body and the pain he felt from them, and wondered how much worse it must’ve felt on the other end. 

Kidou doesn’t like being helpless. He refuses to think he can’t do a single thing about it. Especially not now. Not when he knows. Not when it’s fucking _ Fudou_, of all people, and it may be wrong, for it to matter all the more because it’s him, but Kidou doesn’t care. He’s selfish. He apparently knew his soulmate all this time without knowing that it was _ him_. Kidou isn’t going to let Fudou slip by his fingertips again. 

For a while, neither of them say a thing. Then Fudou says, “I won’t.”

Fudou leaves first, like he always does, but Kidou believes him. 

Teikoku barely manages to scrape up a win, but it happens. A 3-2 score that they all realistically knew would’ve been a 3-3 if not for the fact that the whistle blew right before Gouenji was able to propel the ball forward with a final kick. By then, Endou had already figured out how to block their new hissatsu thanks to Fudou’s advice — Fudou remained on the field so that he could give orders easily, but not once had he touched the ball; he didn’t even move from his position — and all Raimon needed to do was tie the score and get an additional point. 

Kidou isn’t complaining, in the end, even if he knows they would’ve lost if not for the time limit. A win is a win. They fought fair and with all their might. The game was good, and everyone, both winners, losers, and the audience themselves, are all in high spirits. 

It’s a given Teikoku is going to celebrate their win, but before that, they all want to confront Fudou. Kidou stops them, says he’ll be the one to do it, and that causes a lot of protests and complaints. They're all valid, because Fudou is their friend as much as he is Kidou’s, except he’s not _ just _Kidou’s friend, but his soulmate too, though it’s not like he’s told them yet; later, when he gets it all sorted out, he will. And only if Fudou wants, because this isn’t just Kidou’s decision to make.

It’s Sakuma and Jimon who tell the rest to cool off and trust Kidou with this, because he’s their captain. They back down, but Kidou doesn’t miss the knowing look Genda sends him before they all go. He probably knows where Kidou went during half-time. 

Their school buses have already left by the time they exit the stadium, so they head to the subway station. Kidou has only used this kind of commute a couple of times thanks to Endou, so he’s familiar with the system, but Fudou mostly does the work, treating him like an amateur by making him wait in the side as he buys a ticket for him since Kidou doesn’t own a card. It’s that time in the day where there are barely any people around because it’s right in the middle of work and school hours, and Kidou appreciates the unintentional privacy of it all. He doesn’t actually know where they’re headed, what station and train they’re waiting for, but at the moment, the destination doesn’t matter. Being able to finally talk to Fudou is. 

It’s frustrating how off-putting Fudou’s new hair is to Kidou, that he still isn’t used to seeing it. Fudou looks boyish, younger than he ever did, and Kidou feels absolutely out of his element here, like the cool, collected way he was acting during half-time was thrown out the window because it’s really hitting him how _ different _Fudou looks, even if the younger doubts he changed that much. He seems the same, based on today’s match and events. It’s infuriatingly illogical, where Kidou’s thoughts circle around. 

“What?” Fudou eventually snaps, though his gaze is trained towards the empty tracks instead. He refuses to sit down like Kidou in one of the waiting benches even though there’s more than enough space, and Kidou thinks it must be a pride thing. “You’re staring.”

There’s a slight flush on his cheeks though, and Kidou guesses it might be because of the blatant ogling. It’s more obvious since he's taken off his goggles, hanging them around his neck instead because he only wears them for soccer, and though it means that his eyes reveal more emotions than he normally would allow, he realizes he can’t help it. 

“Tell me.” Kidou starts, realizing he might as well go straight to the point even though he wants to mention Fudou’s hair really, really badly. “Why did you leave?”

The tension in Fudou deflates slightly, like he was bracing for something else, which Kidou notices, but chooses not to bring up. Not now, anyway. 

“Because we’re soulmates.” Fudou answers plainly. 

“How did—”

“The day I confessed,” says Fudou. “You got injured from a jump you did during practice. I got the same mark you got on your knee immediately, but it wasn’t like no one gets a bit hurt whenever we train, so it wasn’t obvious. But I knew then, so that’s why I said it.” _ Before it’s too late._ Fudou didn’t say it then because he wanted to get it out before Kidou would find his soulmate, but because he knew they were soulmates, and didn’t— didn’t what? Didn’t want them to be? Even though he said he liked him? 

Fudou suddenly winces and finally sits down, ankle likely strained from all the standing. He still isn’t looking at Kidou. “Do you remember our talk back on my birthday?”

“Yeah.” Kidou says quietly, still trying to understand. 

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t saying that to be dramatic.” Fudou says, raising his chin up defiantly. “I wasn’t going to burden you with my issues, and I— I have a shitload of it, you know? I wasn’t exactly in a good place after Shin Teikoku and before Inazuma Japan, and it all came biting me back in ass when high school started.”

“All those injuries of yours.” Kidou supplies, pieces coming together. Fudou always did have a high pain tolerance, almost like he was used to it. Even back in their Inazuma Japan days. He'd get pushed around and he got back up so easily, like he didn't feel a thing. That kind of endurance wasn't something you were just born with; you had to have prior experience, be familiar with it. “You were getting into fights.” 

Fudou nods. “‘Course, though sometimes it got bad, the other guys always came out looking much worse, so it wasn’t really a big deal. They weren’t always physical either, but those would usually end with a slap or two, and then they’d leave. Part of why they were so hung up on me was because I was still on that Teikoku scholarship. But the board found out about the whole thing and I got kicked out for it. Not that I can blame them. Reputation is a delicate thing. They can’t afford to have a delinquent as their student, no matter how ‘promising’.” At least that explains why Fudou left without an explanation. The board probably wanted him to keep the issue quiet. Why he cut off contact with everyone in Teikoku though, that hasn’t been answered. But Kidou can make an intelligent guess or two. He must’ve thought they were all better off no longer being able to associate with him. 

“Luckily, Hibiki-san put in a strong word for me, so Raimon let me in, and those punks who picked on me finally fucked off, but still.” Fudou shrugs. “Like I said, I don’t want someone to dump my problems on. It’s not like I can’t handle it myself, you know? I’m not weak. And I don’t want to _ have _ to rely on someone just because some greater being out there told me to. But it wasn’t like I could just _ pretend _ my soulmate didn’t exist, because my soulmate was— _ is _you. So I left.”

Fudou does what should be the hardest of things so easily that sometimes Kidou can’t help but marvel at them, because it must take some level of genius to always persevere and never look back despite what might happen. But now, he realizes that it might just be some high level of stupidity instead, that allows Fudou to move forward. 

Kidou still vividly remembers what Fudou told him under the moonlight of his birthday party, still remembers what Fudou did in the empty soccer field after practice. If you asked Kidou to truthfully say how he spent the past few months, the first thing that would come to mind is that he spent it worrying over the state of his soulmate. Now though, it hits him that he also spent all that time thinking over what what he would’ve — _ should’ve _— told Fudou during those two moments when it felt like they were the only two people in the world. 

“When you told me about your parents,” Kidou starts. “And when you told me you liked me, you didn’t let me give you a reply.”

Fudou closes his eyes and leans back. “I thought you didn’t have one. You never usually pass on the opportunity to tell people what you think about something, especially when you disagree.”

He doesn’t. Fudou, and anything related to him, just happens to be the exception. 

“Well, you’re wrong, you know.” Kidou tells him. Fudou’s head snaps towards him. “Being soulmates with someone doesn’t mean dumping your burdens on them; you just share it. It’s not like you’re the only one with baggage; maybe mine just happens to be a lot less obvious, or comes off differently.” He says. “And maybe you can do things alone, maybe you’re strong enough to do so, but why should you? That’s why soulmates exist, after all— so you don’t have to. And the world isn’t stupid. It’ll give you someone who’s as strong as you, enough to help you carry those hardships. You give it too little credit. You give _ me _too little credit.” Kidou looks down at Fudou’s ankle and thinks back to all the injuries he got over the past few months that weren’t his, thinks of the ones to come in the future. “Have I ever done anything to prove to you that I was anything but capable of dealing with whatever the world threw at me?”

Fudou doesn’t say anything, but Kidou doesn’t expect him to, because he knows he’s right. 

Then, “I still think the soulmate thing is bullshit.” 

That, Kidou does expect. “I know.”

“It’s not foolproof. It doesn’t always guarantee a happy ending.” continues Fudou.

“I know.”

“And even though I confessed to you after finding out we were soulmates, I liked you before. It wasn’t because of— this.” he says, gesturing at his injury. “I was going to say it back then, actually, on my birthday. But what came out instead was a goddamn rant about soulmates.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’ve never been good at stuff like that.”

Maybe, but Kidou is still impressed, how easily Fudou can admit these things when he’s always been so adamant about saying anything particularly personal or intimate. But it might just be because he’s already done it before. It might be because it’s Kidou. They really are soulmates, Kidou can’t help but think, even if he knows that if he says it, Fudou might just get annoyed. 

“I’m still willing to try.” replies Kidou. 

“Because we’re soulmates?”

“No.” Kidou shakes his head. “Because I like you too.” 

Fudou’s eyes widen, caught off guard. “Is that so,” is all he says, but there’s the ghost of a smile on his face. There’s a sudden weight Kidou feels on his chest, but it’s warm, and it doesn’t hurt in the slightest. He’s sure Fudou feels the same way. 

The train finally arrives and screeches to a stop. Fudou immediately stands up and starts walking the moment the doors slide open, but Kidou frowns. 

“But you need to stop doing that.” he points out. Fudou turns to him, looking confused. 

“Stop what?”

“Walking away from me.”

Fudou looks surprised at the statement, and then like he’s about to argue, before he realizes what Kidou means, that he’s _ teasing._ Fudou just rolls his eyes, looking exasperated but in a half-hearted way, meant to mask the evident fondness and failing. “Fine.” He grabs Kidou’s hand and tugs him inside. Kidou had been wondering— daydreaming — the feeling of being able to touch Fudou all this time, and the latter does it without even a blink. Full of surprises, as always. Or maybe Kidou’s just getting careless, a tad bit irrational with love. “Walk _ with _me then.”

Kidou smiles. In the train, just as the doors close and the vehicle begins the move, Fudou leans forward. Kidou’s hand grasps at the other’s hair — soft, something Kidou wants to touch it forever — and lets Fudou give him a chaste but sweet kiss.

He tastes like strawberry.

**Author's Note:**

> so this turned out pretty ramble-y and more kidou-centric than kdfd-centric than originally intended, but i still hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> kudos and comments are very much appreciated! you can hit me up on my [tumblr](https://softpunks.tumblr.com/) or [cc](https://curiouscat.me/youngwings) if you wanna chat!


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